Dark
clouds hanging down into my head.A
rather simple wish that I were dead.Worry
though, that even that, would notabsolve
me from attack. It seemsmy
mother died in vain. Now allthat
comes my way is endless rain.Remembering
how clearly all the painwould
write itself across her face.Looking
for the grace to just go on.Utter
reason plays a spartan tune.They
wonder why the flowerswill
not bloom without the moon.As
they hide beneath the covers of their beds.Their
brains are fried. They battle on.They
never see the dawning sunof
light that plays fantasticallyupon
their withered skin.The
joy was maimed within the manygames
of blame they played.Bombs
rocketing, one-pointed,to
a destiny they never earned.I
sit and watch the fire burn awayto
many little lives were lost, once madeto
sing sweet songs. And then there's this.I
know they're wrong.And
yet my blame would only throwanother
shadow deep into the wellof
all their unforgiving attitudes.I
have my moods.At
times I'd like to lash out at them all.Secretly,
the way they did to me.Hiding
in the underground, whiletracking
all their prey. Doors lockedas
if their sacristy might somehow fly away.Their
electricity is wired wrong.Tired
out from all the powerthat
they always claim to own.Oh
nether home within the mist, be mine.Away
from all their reasoned bits of sanity.Absolved
from all their great hypocrisy.I
understand. Don't think I can't.Caught
up in a surging mass they call society.Calculating
loss and gain.Projecting
all their pain to someone else.While
every plan they make unhinges me.I
cry out loud. And then I fallback
into the dark cloudsthat
keep hanging in my head.Afraid
to even wish that I were dead...